Making my (romantic) mind up?

Every time I hear a politician or journalist use the phrase ‘making your mind up’, awful memories of Buck’s Fizz come flooding into my memory. Not the rather tame (but refreshing on a hot day) drink, but the of-its-time pop group who defrocked themselves while singing the chorus.

Observing the election campaign, I am beginning to wonder whether people have actually already made their minds up and the next ten days will just get a bit tedious with the repeated mantras that are supposed to invade our subconscious and steer our hand in the ballot box next week. Labour sound defeated, the Tories sound panicky/desperate, and the Liberal Democrats sound confident about changing the political landscape in the UK.

What I can’t make my mind up about is precisely which ‘Britain’ is being remembered when the parties – Tories (mainly) and UKIP/BNP/English Democrats/etc (manically) – promise to restore to Britain the greatness that is its birthright. The BNP have even superimposed Nick Griffin (looking as if someone is squeezing his balls below the picture to make him look serious) on Sir Winston Churchill – a ludicrous association if ever there was one. But, my question is a serious one: when was the ‘golden age’ to which we might aspire to return or re-create?

Of course, this goes hand-in-hand with the other question around at the moment: are Christians being marginalised or persecuted? The link between this and the first question is that both make assumptions about the past and both indulge in a rather embarrassing (and baseless?) romanticism.

I am still wading through Dostoyevsky‘s The Brothers Karamazov: 400 pages so far and nothing has really happened. (Only another 600 to go…). Before dying at an appropriate moment, the elderly monk (Staretz) Zosima speaks about the decline of Russia and how Russia, destroyed by her leaders, will be saved by her Christian people. And the divine destiny of the great country will be restored and guaranteed as the old, corrupt order falls apart. The future, however, also contains threats that must be avoided. Published in 1880 (when Lenin was 10 years old), it is hard not to read it with half an eye on subsequent (and then unimaginable) developments in Russia and beyond. There is too much to quote here, but you could read some of this stuff and no one would blink if you applied it to today – the same old romanticism.

Why do we all do this? We romanticise the past, bringing a certain order out of the chaos that we actually lived through, and fear the ‘monsters’ that lie in wait for us in the future. Every generation fears it might be the last. Every generation worries that it has sold its inheritance and that everything is now in decline. “AND IT IS SOMEONE’S FAULT!” But, look back in England to the post-war years of growth, optimism and massive technological advance in just about every field – the promise that reconstruction brings and the energy it commands. But also look at what became known as ‘the permissive society’ and the obvious fact that we write the script of history as we go, not always clear about the implications until much later.

While on sabbatical a few months ago I did a quick, inexhaustive and not-very-thorough internet trawl of newspaper reports and headlines going back a century or so. Every headline seems to imply that the world/country/government/society/Church is going to the dogs and the world is about to fall apart. It hasn’t. I did the same for Germany and its world did fall apart on more than one occasion. Most Germans do not romanticise the past century or more; the Brits do. And it is mindless.

As I have noted before, I used to baptise people in a Norman font and drink wine (Communion) from an Elizabethan chalice every Sunday in my old parish. During the time people have been living their lives in that community there have been civil wars, the Reformation, the Counter-Reformation, European wars, colonial wars, the rise and demise of the British Empire, the birth and death of the Soviet Empire, and so on. When this chalice was first used, America didn’t exist (except for the Indians who already lived there, but apparently don’t count when it comes to remembering American history). This is the sort of perspective we need to recover – not some romantic notion of a golden age that never existed other than in our ideological or emotional ‘memories’.

The election candidates will continue to frighten us with the fearful future and promise a recovery of the elusive past. All nonsense. The more the leaders bang on about the dangers of a hung Parliament, the more I want one. Call it a ‘coalition government’, have a look at some of our European neighbours (Germany, for instance) and ask what the fuss is about? Maybe the fear is only in the minds of party leaders who fear losing control and having to argue their case for policy implementation. I’m beginning to think that might be far preferable to some of the alternatives.

Making my mind up? I’m getting there. But I’m also getting fed up with the self-regarding fear-mongering being put about. We could just grow up and try something different for a change. Which, actually, is what happens all the time, in every generation, in some part of life or other. We make it happen as we go. There is no other way.

25 Responses to “Making my (romantic) mind up?”

The only point I’d comment on is the length of the campaign. When the candidates had to get around various public meetings and the leaders visit all parts of the Kingdom 4 weeks was probably necessary, but with modern communication methods I do wonder what exactly is the value of several weeks of campaigning. I wonder how many of us need this amount of time to make a decision.

I am beginning to wonder whether people have actually already made their minds up and the next ten days will just get a bit tedious with the repeated mantras that are supposed to invade our subconscious and steer our hand in the ballot box next week.

Guilty as charged — though my mind could still be changed.

Martin,

We only got our polling cards about two weeks after the date was announced. Presumably it takes a little longer than that in some places, and of course there are those who, for whatever reason, didn’t register to vote until the deadline last week. (Yes, I know it’s possible to vote without bringing a polling card, but how many borderline apathetic people know it?)

“Labour sound defeated, the Tories sound panicky/desperate, and the Liberal Democrats sound confident about changing the political landscape in the UK.”

Sounds to me as though you have indeed made your mind up. I’ve always found it ironic when church leaders make a pretence of being neutral on party politics and then write or say something that so clearly backs one political party. Usually, of course, they can’t quite disguise their contempt for Conservative policies.

Andrew, you should try to conceal your contempt for bishops who don’t agree with you necessarily. I have not decided yet which way I will vote. All judgements at this stage are provisional in my case. Don’t be so arrogant as to think you can presume to know my or other people’s mind.

Oh come on, Nick. Whether you’ve made your mind up or not you’ve outlined exactly the Lib Dem position and haven’t, for example, even given a nod to the fact that there might be a principled and reasoned argument to support first-past-the-post. It’s frankly a straw man to attack the notion of a ‘golden age’ (which you seem to think is a prominent theme in the Tory campaign – though I haven’t seen it). And I don’t know what such a notion has to do with the claim that Christians/Christianity are marginalised.

I’m sure you’re now also going to say that you didn’t mean to perjoratively lump the Tories in with the BNP and EDF. It’s that kind of thing which makes it clear that your agenda is as loaded as anyone else’s.

In the interests of openness, I have made up my mind to vote for an excellent and effective local MP who has done a lot to support our local school and has helped some families I know who have hit difficult times. He is a Conservative.

Andrew, you patronisingly think you know my mind better than I do. I summarised the way the parties were appearing at that point in time – obviously, I had not realised that I wasn’t supposed to do this. I was writing a blog post, not an essay that would cover every base.

The link between the issues in the post are that both look back to an imaginary golden age. You sit in the gallery of the General Synod and hear this stuff all the time. I don’t believe you couldn’t see the link.

Tell me when I have claimed to be ‘neutral’. I argue constantly on here that nobody is ever neutral – except you, of course. You have no idea whether the Tories might be one of the options I will eventually go for – balancing local and national issues. Your arrogance does not commend you.

I don’t want your ‘openness’. It is a secret ballot and entirely up to you who you vote for. And it is completely open to me and anyone else to tell it as we see it, even if we haven’t yet decided which way to vote.

Do you honestly think it’s tenable for you as a bishop to be seen to take a party-political stand? And yes, I happen to think you should cover all bases especially during an election campaign. Church leaders cannot/should not be seen to influence votes. Furthermore, blogs are no different from any other type of publication – you’re still a bishop despite the informality.

Just out of interest, would you call me ‘arrogant’ to my face during a discussion in which we strongly disagreed?

Well, at least you’ve answered my question. You see nothing wrong with Bishops being seen to take a party political stance. At this point I sigh, ‘Well, Bishops are not what they used to be.’ (Struggles to think of a golden age).

Well you know it’s not a good joke when you have to explain it (I was hoping the reference to ‘golden age’ was a clue). I don’t think I know your mind but I do think you’ve made a good job of advocating the lib dem line over and against the Tories.

I’ve read your exchange with Andrew (above). I agree absolutely that you have the right to political opinions, as we all do, even the Queen. There is no reason why a Bishop should be bland. If you were bland we would not be talking here.

As a Bishop, you influence quite a lot of people. I don’t know how big is your ‘congregation’ but would you, on the eve of a general election, give a sermon in your cathedral advising people how to vote?

Kevin, I think the point is that I wouldn’t tell anyone how to vote, but I might speak about matters fundamental to Christian citizenship. My point with Andrew is that ‘observation’ is not the same as ‘instruction’.

And… I don’t have a church – I oversee 102 parishes and the clergy (and lay people) who serve them.

Sorry, Andrew, but how can a bishop not be political? Living out our Christian faith does actually involve engaging with real life and looking at party policies to see how they correspond to Christ’s teachings. A bishop should surely be pointing this out. It’s not possible to be neutral.

Cetti’s Warbler – I agree that clergy can’t help but be political. I was arguing that they shouldn’t be using a pulpit or even a blog to advocate for one party or another. There’s a well-recognised difference between being political and being party-political.

I recognise that Nick doesn’t feel he has overstepped any sort of line. I just think that misrepresenting the views of the Conservative Party and lumping them in with the BNP and EDF was too close to the line for my comfort.

[…] just for extras, my observations on the resignation of Tom Wright as Bishop of Durham and on the electoral campaign in the UK come together (sort of) in Tom’s lecture on 10 February this year on God and Government. […]